Don't do this to yourself
by lilacutie
Summary: Noodles worried, and she's determined to get to the bottom of his strange behaviour. Russel's trying, but he's too polite to pry so hard on him. Murdoc is trying to ignore the fact that he cares for his mental (and occasionally physical) health. 2D is eventually going to go too far if they don't stop him. (Please review, I need feedback to continue!)
1. Chapter 1

A long trail of smoke left the singer's lips as he exhaled, staring intently at the burning tip of his cigarette with dead eyes. Leaning on the banister, he gently pulled up his sleeve, sticking the fag back between his lips.

The flesh that his long-sleeved shirt had previously covered was riddled with various injuries, some covered with plasters like the scratch on his cheek, some almost healed.

He had bruises, big, black and purple ones, he had tiny cuts, little scrapes, grazes on his elbows and at least 5 straight, white, healing lines just under his wrist.

The most prominent of his injuries had to be the burns, however.

Some had plasters hap-hazardly placed ontop of them, though they were quite unecessary. Some were scarred over, like little holes in his skin. None were particularly fresh- but a few had yet to heal over properly, trapping whatever cigarette debris had been caught in the wound inside his skin. He never cleaned out his self-inflicted wounds properly, if at all.

2D let a sigh act as an exhale as he plucked the damn cancer stick from his lips. A clean surface of his skin was almost inviting to the gently glowing tip- his only source of light on the dark balcony.

But the burning wasn't yet so close to the filter that he'd actually waste the rest of his cigarette. He wasn't stalling- oh no, he just had a bit more sense than to waste so much on himself.

A few more long, comfortable drags had the cigarette down low enough for 2D to decide that it was around the perfect length for what he was about to do. He had done it so many times already, he didn't require tears to express his hurt. It was just pain to him now- a distraction from his own horribly prominent stupidity.

In fact, it had been a while since Murdoc had last taken his anger out on D, though there were always heavy bruises on his arms, legs and torso. Usually the ones on his legs tended to be his own fault- crashing into things, stubbing his toes, banging his various limbs against sharp corners (usually keyboards.)

And now? Now he had started purposfully influcting his own pain. He had begun wearing longer-sleeved shirts more often, he slept less then the limited amount of time he usually slept, he barely even interacted with anyone anymore.

Nobody knew what he was doing- he supposed no one really cared.

A hiss made its way through clenched teeth as the burning tip touched his skin, creating a sickly sizzling sound as he ground it in further. The light slowly went out, but little to no blood was left. 2D honestly didn't give a shit about any blood anyway. Tossing the cigarette over the balcony, the singer stared at the angry, red skin, letting the pain and adrenaline wash over him, bluntly clearing his mind.

His painkillers are only for his migranes, and he's labelled them that. No matter how much pain he inflicts on himself, he won't use his painkillers for it. Even if he enjoys the feeling of numbness. To him, it's a debaitable way to clear his head of thoughts and unwanted memories: wait for a migrane and down 20 pills, or slash, burn, tear at and damage skin.

But he never really was a very patient boy.


	2. Chapter 2

A light knock on the door surprised the singer, causing him to twist around too fast. Clumsily, he tripped over his own feet and cried out as his head smacked against the hard, black metal railing of the balcony.

The whack the the back of his head triggered a rather shitty migrane, and suddenly he was glad he locked the door because when he stumbled to his feet, his arms were still on for show.

Hastily pulling down his sleeves, 2D concentrated on the door as it rattled. The person behind the door didn't seem too patient, but then again, he did just cause himself a migrane. It's easy to be worried about someone like him.

The rattling and knocking continued to get progressively angrier, making Stu's head throb and his eyes squint. Instead of continuing on his course to the door, he went to his bedside table in order to find his pills, yelling a shriller-than-planned "Jus' a MINUTE!" over his shoulder to the person/people at the door.

The rattling seemed to calm down a bit.

Two bottles.

One for finding the source and stopping it, the other for numbing the pain while it works.

Six numbing ones were downed (thank god for past him, smartly leaving a glass of water on the bedside table) and five of the stopping ones. In around two minutes 2D's vision started going blurry at the edges and his fingers and toes began to feel kind of not-there ish.

Managing to take a step towards the door, he didn't make it too far. The singer tripped over nothing and fell to the ground in a large mess of long limbs and a short torso.

It took him about three more minutes to register the fact that he had fallen before he finally stood up (wobbily, mind you) and fumbled around with the lock on the door.

It swung open to reveal a pajama-clad, pissed-looking Japanese girl with her hair tangled at all different lengths around her shoulders.

"This took you a long while." She muttered, frowning upwards at the tall beanstalk as best she could, with her choppy fringe in her eyes.

Stuart rubbed the back of his head, looking rather guilty.

"Sorry luv, ya know i can't form words wiffout me meds in my system when I got a wankin' great 'eadache..."

Noodle's face softens, but she's far from smiling.

"Yes, maybe, but you could not already take meds before? Surely you were not sitting with the head pain while I was not here?"

She always was such a clever little girl.

Stuart swallowed, scrunching up his nose and running his tongue over his teeth (and gum).

"Well nah, but- I mean, it ain't like ya didn't knock just while I was gettin' one, eh?" He straightened up a bit at that, proud of his excuse.

Noodle raised her eyebrows underneath her thick fringe.

"But- yeesh luv, it sure is late... what's goin' on? Is there a fire or somefink? What'cha doin' up, hon?" He leaned down a little, frowning deeply and chewing his lip in anticipation for the young girl's answer.

She smiled. "No, nothing like a fire. But I have had... a night terror? Russel is not alone in company and Murdoc would not be prefferable.." She shuffled her bare feet, looking at the dirty, mysterious stain in the carpet underneath her toes. It was a little sticky.

2D bought her excuse immediately, Noodle being a good actor and 2D just being geneally brick-headed.

He stepped aside, holding the door open for her.

The young girl entered his room cautiously, holding up her fringe to get a good look of the large space, which was covered in multiple keyboards and various sheets of music, some with a few scattered notes and some full of scribbles.

2D's bed was untouched. He hadn't been sleeping.

She frowned a little.

It was 12:30 am, and he had a good amount of sleeping pills.

The young man closed the door behind her and leaned against it, awkwardly waiting for the girl to say something. She could come into his room whenever she wanted- why was she so interested in the little details of it now?

He hoped she wouldn't want to sleep in his bed, like she used to. Russel would kill him for sure, and besides, when he was a kid, he would always stay awake for hours and play videogames until he passed out if he had a bad dream.

She didn't say anything, however, and just stood there, squinting at his room, bathed in darkness with all the small blinking lights here and there. Stuart decided that the scilence was killing him, and spoke up. "Well 'ten... Wanna play a quick game'a Pong, Noods?" Noodle turned to look at him, surprised, and then pulled a face.

"Aah, Toochie, I do not exactly enjoy your silly Pong game.." By her tone, he could tell she didn't mean any offense, but it was upsetting to him anyway- and it showed. She was quick to compromise. "But I shall be glad to play any other game you may want, Toochie!"

The singer broke out into a grin, the sight of his two missing teeth making Noodle wince. He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the playstation down near the balcony entrance.

Super-Smash Bros it is.

One hour and a good amount of snacks later, Noodle had almost forgotten the reason she had come to her bandmate's room. Mashing her fingers against the various buttons all over her controller with enthusiasm, she took a sip from the straw protruding out of a bottle of Moutain Dew in between her crossed legs and gritted her teeth.

2D was winning this match. Just barely- but still winning.

She spared a glance at him, almost smiling at how kid-like he looked, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, brows furrowed and eyes squinting almost comically.

Sadly, this small, spared glance was her downfall.

The countdown came on screen and his character kicked hers one last time, sending it flying. The singer let out a loud, far-from-melodical victory cry, shooting his arms in the air and waving them about. Noodle watched, smiling, as he continued to cheer. And then frowned, as his arms caught the light of the Television screen. Scars, holes and plasters riddled his pale flesh, and an especially angry red hole (a fresh-looking one) was on his left arm.

She stood up abruptly, head bowed so heer eyes were hidden. Her empty Mountain Dew bottle fell to the floor, and Stuart stopped celebrating.

"N-noods? Wassup, luv?"

She faked a yawn.

"Oh, Toochie- I am very tired. Maybe I should go and sleep now?"

2D stared at her from his place on the floor. She looked... off, for some reason that he couldn't place, but he brushed it off as the darkness getting to him. Standing up, he offered her a hug. She did take it, but pushed away quickly, scampering off faster then he could say goodbye.

How strange.

The thought lingered with him as he played a few rounds with some CPU's, letting each one win against his character in turn. After turning off the console and playing a game or two of Pong, he considered composing something, but sometimes he got too loud (or Murdoc suddenly became a light sleeper) and he got a right fucking ass-kicking.

It took him a while to realize that he had sleeping pills, and he soon decided that a heavily-drugged sleep wouldn't be so bad right now.

A couple of pills and a good sip of water later he was out like a light, Noodle's strange behaviour slipping from his mind as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the sleeping pills, 2D woke up at a moderately early time. 10:00 am isn't so bad, not if you slept less than 5 hours before.

As he heaved himself out of bed, the singer supposed that it has been a good idea to at least get SOME sleep, despite the fact that he had managed to fall asleep fully dressed.

Stuart cursed under his breath, uncomfortably wriggling out of his jeans and putting on another pair- a less-skinny one. He took a whiff of his shirt. It didn't smell overly disgusting, so it passed the test, mostly.

Unlike he used to, 2D didn't smile at himself in the mirror as he left to go into the kitchen to fetch some food. He took a glance, and paused, scrunching up his face and watching his reflection do the same. A twinge of disgust planted itself in the bottom of his stomach, just growing even further as he walked to the kitchen and questioned himself.

Did he ALWAYS look like absolute shit?

He guessed so, it wasn't like he was a celestial being, and Murdoc sure was disgusted enough by him. Maybe that was why Noodle left last night, he reckoned, because Noodle saw how absolutely revolting he looked. Or she just couldn't deal with it for any longer.

Being a brickhead, Stuart naturally became too preoccupied with his thoughts of how many people must've been disgusted with him at some point in their lives to notice that there were voices speaking in hushed tones coming from the kitchen as he approached.

"Eeheh, it's not like the block'ead'll be able to damage 'imself MUCH further, considerin' he has second-to-no braincells, amirite?" Came a suspiciously Murdoc-esque voice, slurring each word in distaste.

"Murdoc, you must be serious about that! We have not many time to be joking about his condition. He is not healthy, and you cannot just ignore this fact! I know you care, and he is doing very bad." A small, thickly-accented voice protested.

"Yeah. Muds, you gotta take this shit seriously. He ain't just an object, y'know. Everyone has feelings." A Russel-like voice agreed.

2D walked straight into the room, looking at his twitching fingers. Noodle audibly gasped, hurring over and grabbing his right arm, pulling him to the table. Surprised, Stuart looked down, wide-eyed at her, yelping a little as Russel set down a plate full of pancakes and syrup in front of him, scaring him half to death.

Noodle pushed him into a chair, and pulled the plate in front of him.

2D scrunched up his face, looking around at everyone in confusion.

Murdoc turned away and left the room. Funny- Stuart didn't remember it being May, last time he checked his calendar, and usually when its his birthday no one actually CELEBRATES. Most times, even he forgets.

"Uuh... is it a special occasion or summ'ink?" Stuart asked, frowning in confusion at Russel, who was sitting across from him in a frilly pink and white polka-dot apron. "Gosh- I don't remember it turnin' May..." Putting his finger to his lip, he looked up a the peeling paint on the ceiling and frowned deeply.

God, he really was as stupid as Murdoc always said!

Noodle put a hand on his arm. "Toochie, there is no big celebration," The singer turned to her, head tilted to the side. "We are only try to see that, um... You are very special to the others of us." She looked to Russel for help, who shifted in his chair.

"What Noodle is tryin' to say... is that you're not as worthless as Murdoc tries to make you feel. You're a good asset to all of us, D, and we sure love you bein' here. We're tryin' to show that we appreciate you as a friend, y'know?"

The singer scrunched up his face for a moment, then broke out into a smile that only he knew was fake. It made him feel sick, because he was painfully aware he didn't diserve this. For breakfast, he was only aiming to eat around half a bowl of cereal anyway- god, like he could eat this entire plate of disgustingly sweet-looking pancakes!

He listened to Noodle and Russel let out held-in breaths at the sight of his smile.

He swallowed, then pushed the plate away a little, standing up. "I fink I'm gunna eat in my room, y'know? I don't... I 'ave stuff to do, but fanks so much, guys. This is really sweet'a you." He smiled sweetly, leaning down in order to kiss Noodle on the cheek.

They both frowned, and he felt it, feeling them watch him as he picked up the plate cautiously and walked down the hall to his room.

What the fuck was that all about? They wasted perfectly good food on him. He wouldn't be able to eat this, eugh. It made his eyes spin just looking at it.

Maybe... maybe Murdoc would want it? Stuart didn't exactly feel like dumping good, fluffy-looking pancakes over his balcony, and Murdoc liked to eat food, right?

It seemed like an amazing plan to 2D, so he took a turn into the Parking Lot, heading over to the desolate land that housed Murdoc's Whinnebago. As the Van came closer in sight and step, 2D lost confidence with every thought of rejection that passed through his mind. Sadly, he didn't exactly have enough time to consider turning back properly before he arrived on the top step of the dirty baige Van.

The singer stood there for about five seconds, plate growing slippery as his hands clammed up, as he decided whether or not to knock on the door. A sudden bout of short-lived courage shot through him as he knocked on the small plastic pannel, glad that Russel has stick a fork through the whole pile of calories.

As usual, there was a loud series of clanks and other various noises (like curses, yelps and a couple of smashing sounds) before the door flung open to reveal an extremely pissed Murdoc Niccals. An unimpressed look found its way to his lips when he saw 2D in the place of a policeman, though it became a little more questioning when he started eyeing the pancakes in Stuart's hands.

"'E...ello, Mu'doc! Uhm... I brought these pancakes, cause I weren't gonna eat 'em, and I reckoned that you liked food and stuff, 'aight? So I 'fought maybe you'd want 'em, y'know?" 2D stumbled over his words a little more then aimlessly, trying to explain himself in a way thay wouldn't end in him getting knocked out, or the pancakes on the floor.

The older man squinted down at 2D from his higher place on the steps, then looked in distaste at the pancakes.

"Now tell me, 'D... Why would I wanna eat some of your shitty leftovers?" He said the words like he was a much higher being then 2D ever could be, and that annoyed him so much.

Stuart glanced down at the plate in hus hands, and looked off to the side, refusing to make eyecontact. He mumbled something something under his breath that made Murdoc's eyes widen. If he had been in a bad mood before, then he was near to 100% pissed now.

The angry pickle grabbed Stu by the collar of his shirt, yanking his face closer. The plate in his hands slipped, fell and smashed on the concrete floor.

"What, did you say? Repeat that one more time..." He spone in a threatening tone, but the singer was utterly pissed and fed up with eberyone treating him like a baby.

"I said... I GUESS IF IT'S SHIT, IT'S BETTER THAN YOU!"

A punch drove itself into his left eye, rattling through his thick skull.

**you guys can muster up at least 3 reviews before the next chapter, right? :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Noodle went to talk to Stuart not 20 minutes after he left the breakfast table. But, of course, she was not able to find him in his room.

Her new knowledge of his self-harming habits made her much more worried then she usually would have been, running all around Kong Studios in an attempt to find him with Russel.

All the while, their blue-haired wonder was lying on the concrete floor of the CarPark, Murdoc Niccals leaning over him and fucking up his face with punch after punch. His knees dug into 2D's hands, pinning them so that he was unable to sheild his face, like he always did. The only thing 2D could do was cry out, say he was sorry, and wish for it to stop.

"You think, now that you're all fuckin' pampered by Noodle and Russel, that you're motherfucking immortal?!" The bassist dug his fist into the already bloodied and bruised face of 2D, laughing cruelly when he felt salty tears on his knuckles.

"M...mmur'doc..." 2D gasped as another punch hit his right eye precisely, "pl-...ease, oh god... Murdoc, it ...it 'urts, please, 'm sorry.." the poor kid struggled to see- his eyes were all puffed up and bruised, and his head felt like it was splitting in half with another throbbing migrane.

Another onslaught of insults were thrown at the singer, but he couldn't listen. All he heard was his own heartbeat, and an intense ringing in his ears. He kicked his legs out behind the bassist sitting ontop of him, yelling loudly in his cracking, weak voice. The wordless scream echoed all around them, bouncing off the walls of the near-empty carpark.

To shut him up, Murdoc moved his hands to 2D's throat.

He licked his lips, watching intently as Stuart's eyes widened as far as they could, his throat making wheezing sounds as his mouth opened and closed- a lot like a fish, but wider and with more gaps and shitty gold teeth. Murdoc felt 2D's long fingers flex and claw undearneath his knees, and let his left hand go just for fun. It almost immediately shot up to his neck, clawing at the hands clasped around it.

"Mu...r, Mu...'do...c" 2D wheezed out, pleading with his half-shut eyes, "y-y...a, ya... gon...na...k-kill...me, Muds..."

Murdoc grinned.

"I know, mate."

At that moment, 2D passed out from lack of oxygen. Murdoc laughed, stood up, dusted himself off and kicked the singer over.

He wasn't dead, and he was lucky.

Russel was the one who later found him lying on the concrete floor, bloodied and bruised, and if Noodle hadn't arrived after the obvious discovery that it was Murdoc, his nose could've been fucked up even further then it already was.

The large gorillaman carried his bean-friend's limp, surpisingly bony, body back to his bedroom, and laid him down on his unmade bed.

"Ugh..." Noodle groaned, rubbing her temples and sitting on the edge of 2D's bed. Honestly, Russel was sure that Noodle definitely should not be going through this kind of stress. He sat down next to her (making the matress cave considerably) and put his hand on her shoulder, silently comforting her.

"Russel, we must check the wounds of him and fix them, you know more about the medical then I do. I will... have a look around.."

Russel nodded and went into the bathroom, successfully finding a small green first-aid kit. The only thing that Russel found a lessening supply of was plasters, and he soon knew why.

His friend's arms were completely covered in all kinds of scars, as well as a plethora of the multi-coloured plasters from the box. The drummer felt uncomfortable staring at something so private, even if it was kept from them as a secret- so he quickly tugged Stuart's sleeves back down and began to work on his face.

He worked in scilence, listening to Noodle hum a small, wavering tune and the occasional loud russle as his little girl scoured his friends room.

By the time he was done fixing up 2D's wounds (which were literally just around his shoulder to neck area) the young guitarist hadn't finished searching 2D's entire room of junk, so he decided to check over his chest area, just incase there were any broken ribs or bruises. It was funny- 2D's chest was surprisingly soft and even raised a little, but his ribs were fine. They definitely were not broken, because Russel could see each and every one, and they were all clearly fine.

"Stupid manchild not eatin' any food..." It upset Russel more then he liked to admit when he was reminded Stuart was never really 100% healthy- mentally or otherwise.

Noodle was soon done- and she came back with a box almost full to the brim of objects that could be used to inflict pain on someone, or on yourself. Russel scratched his head, disbeliving.

"Noods, we can't take away all his stuff- I'm pretty sure that's called stealin', Hun." Russel squinted at the items in the box, raising his brows at her.

The young guitarist gave an exasperated sigh. "Just... just until he become better, yes, Russel?"

"Better? Noodle, we can't cure him... we can only help him."

"But this IS the help, Russel! We will help by this. I am sure."

Russel frowned, but Noodle made her puppydog face, and The drummer gave in. The amount of times he had let her win him over like this made him quite annoyed.

"Fine, but I'm lettin' ya know..."

"Yes, yes... I will keep sure he is good and watch him for an hour. Do you would like to take hour break? Also, please take this to room mine?"

Russel took the box being offered by her, and tucked the first-aid kit behind the bedside table. He leaned against the doorframe, box in hand, and glanced at her sitting on a rickety old chair, swinging her legs.

"See ya in an hour, babygirl.."

000

**Oh gosh, timelessdemon, you guessed the plot! (kinda!)Thanks for reviewing, it really means a lot. Uhm, there will be quite a large surprise in a couple of chapters, and 2D only gets worse from here, but can you all just try to keep an open mind? Thaaank youu!**


	5. Chapter 5

At 8:00 in the morning, Noodle switched out with Russel on shift and walked down to the kitchen to get a snack or two.

She found Murdoc, like the parasite he is, swearing and rustling around in the fridge- presumably looking for beer.

"Much luck?" She asked spitefully, climbing fully onto the counter to be able to reach to the top cabinets.

"Mmhmmm... d'ya know where Russel hid the beer, luv?"

The young girl took two packets of crisps out of the cabinet, and got down slowly, backwards.

"He did not hide any beer, Murdoc. Last time we shop he did not get the beer. Sorry." She spoke quite emotionlessly, and walked out without making any eyecontact with the eldest member of the band.

He frowned. She was turning into quite the sassy little miss.

When Noodle got back to 2D's room, she cursed herself for getting such a loud snack, and ate her portion of the crisps outside the room instead of sharing both with Russel, like she planned to. It was quite light outside the window at the end of the hall, and Noodle sighed, opening the door slowly- to find Russel almost asleep.

"Russel, did you buy the beer with the last shopping?" The young girl whispered to him quietly, sitting down next to him on the floor.

Russel frowned and raised both eyebrows down at her, wondering why his babygirl wanted to know if they had beer in the house.

"Uuhh... why would'ya wanna know that, honey? Didn't I tell ya that you're too young to have beer?" He was so confused and concerned for her, which was what Noodle was so amazed by- what made her feel so safe in this house.

Russel was the good dad, 2D was the goofy dad, and Murdoc was the dad that teaches you about how to summon a deamon and shoplift and stuff- but really? 2D and Murdoc were more like big brothers to her. Russel really did feel like her father figure.

"I was just ask, Murdoc is looking for the beer in the kitchen." Noodle placed the crisps on his lap, and looked around to find a small wooden stool, which she used to sit next to him.

The coversation seemed quite over.

Soon, Noodle scrambled onto Russel's lap, causing the crisps to tumble down. She managed to curl into a little ball (giving up her shift) on his lap, and promptly fell asleep with Russel petting her hair.

He was sure 2D wouldn't wake up until later, so Russel left his room with Noodle in his arms, and pur her in her bed. He tucked his little girl in, kissed her forhead, and then went back to 2D's room.

He'd finish her shift for her.

000

The rest of the week was like torture for Stuart.

For starters- Noodle and Russel hid everything away from him.

In the kitchen, they put all the sharp objects away. They all magically left the premisis, hidden somewhere the singer couldn't find. Not that he was looking.

But also, 2D could tell that someone had rummaged about in his room. Everything remotely dangerous had been removed. His favorite flip-knife was gone, his collection of lighters, a gun or two that had been sitting around.

At first, he thought he was just loosing things. He couldn't see too well- not with his two black eyes, and it wasn't unusual for him to loose things every once in a while. But as the days went on, the bruises slowly went faded- and his organised mess of a room most definitely had a much smaller amount of his favourite items inside of it.

Another thing- 2D could feel the two (especially Noodle) watching him all the time, and it was almost completely inescapable. Sometimes he'd manage to hide away in the bathrooms, but they'd wait just outside, and make sure cometely that he had nothing dangerous of harmful before he went in.

Every time he went to have a smoke, one of them would be watching- and at first they at least tried to hide it, but it just got more and more obvious, until 2D felt like he was being trapped.

The worst thing was their smiles. Whenever he caught their eye, they would smile like everything was ok, like they didn't know he had depression. They were so utterly fake, and they sent shivers down his spine.

He remembered that these people used to be his family. He used to feel safe with them, now he just felt like they wanted to lock him in a cage, to take away all his privacy just to "protect" him.

Murdoc wouldn't have anything to do with it- which was just fine to Stuart, because they were both refusing to speak to each other. That was kind of obvious- I mean, Murdoc almost killed him, he was rightfully angry. But instead of solving their problems like mature adults, they gave each other stubborn cold-shoulders if they saw the other in the halls.

They only thing was, 2D felt that Murdoc was the only one he could really trust in this situation. He was painfully aware that Noodle and Russel were just trying to help, but they would never listen to a word he said. They treated him like a 4 year old.

After the first week was over, Stuart realized that to get them to stop, he'd have to play along. He'd have to to smile back and pretend he was getting better- when really? He was getting worse.

After two weeks of acting like he was the happiest, dumbest boy in the world, they trusted him enough to let him sleep without someone watching

Mostly, it was because Russel was sure Noodle needed more sleep, and Noodle agreed to it because she thought her method was working. If Stuart was getting better, why watch him while he was asleep?

You'll have to remember that these people are his friends. They only wanted to help- their actions weren't out of malicious intent, and 2D was perfectly aware of that. But please understand that when a friend is suicidal or depressed, you have to listen to them. What they say to you is important. Taking away their privacy and ignoring their words is not the way to go about helping.

Stuart wanted to talk to someone- a real conversation. Not just smiling and nodding, but not listening.

So on the Tuesday night of the second week, Stuart swallowed his pride, and went to the carpark.

000

**At LEAST 3 reviews before the next chapter please, guys! Also, sorry for the shortness of the chapters. I'm never actually able to write an entire chapter in one sitting, so it just takes a while, and if I wrote it much longer, then they'd take AGES to churn out.**


	6. Chapter 6

It was colder and darker then expected in the carkpark.

Any sensible person would've worn something other than pajama pants and their favorite t-shirt, perhaps socks, maybe, but as you all know- Stuart Pot is not exactly the most sensible person out there.

Sockless and shivering, 2D navigated his way (badly) through the darkened carpark and attempted to see Murdoc's winniebago through the eerie grey atmosphere.

As the young man glanced about him with fear and frustration, he stepped on something soft and sticky. Knowing Murdoc, whatever it was could've ranged from a kidney to a used tampon, or whatever inbetween- but 2D's eyes had slowly adjusted to the dark, and if he squinted, he could see the faint colour of a soggy, syrupy pancake.

He was on Murdoc's doorstep (kind of) when he dropped the plate of pancakes, so that must mean he was close. Then again, the plate shattered when it was dropped, so he'd better watch his footing. Not like he didn't expect to step on something harmful- a couple of pebbles had managed to stick into his feet by now and it hurt like hell, which made him feel a little better, and a whole lot worse at the same time.

When an object shatters it does not just stay in the same place, even if the object in question is drenched is syrup. The pieces should fall everywhere, and if it is not cleared up in due time, then stepping on it and hurting yourself is a very real danger. Stuart managed to step on a total of 24 shards of the plate, each one burrying itself in his cold feet, most drawing blood and allowing him to wipe it all over the floor.

2D LITERALLY stumbled upon the Winniebago, crashing right into its side as one foot hit the edge of the steps and the other didn't. His head smacked into the thin metal casing, which sent him reeling, and it took a good few tries to actually stand on the platform that would allow him to knock on the door.

Surely, Murdoc had heard him crashing about outside, but to be honest? He knew who it was.

And he was dreading the conversation they were inevitably going to have.

2D's fist rattled the aged and rusted-around-the-edges metal door, loudly telling the occupant of the van that someone was most definitely outside and waiting. The young man shuffled nervously (and painfully) about from foot to foot while the crashing and clanking of bottles was heard from inside- and the odd curse. A brighter light flickered on from inside and ALREADY hurt 2D's eyes, but when the door swung open with a tremendous bang, it was almost blinding.

"Alright, you sodding excuse for a human, what the hell are you doing down here so late?" Came the familiar voice of Murdoc Niccals.

2D put an arm over his eyes and squinted at him. He hadn't actually planned this out- fuck, what was he supposed to say? "Uh... um... I.." He bit his lip, sniffed once, and then just started bawling.

Murdoc was actually quite startled, and stood there, still somewhat menacing, in front of a crying Stu. He swallowed, watching as the man in front of him looked up, squinted his eyes again, and began to turn around. What had he been thinking? Why was this a good idea at all?

Annoyedly, Murdoc knew that 2D was not in a good situation to be on his own. And he actually also felt a little bit guilty for obvious reasons, though reasons that he would not tackle directly nontheless.

So he called him back.

"Stu... wait- ugh, fuck, this is starting to sound like an impossibly crappy romance movie.."

The retreating figure stopped. Then bent over slightly, a wheezing half giggle, half strangled cat sound caming from his throat. Murdoc would never be able to figure out how his singer had the singing voice of an angel, but the laugh of a bag lady who'd smoked one too many cigarettes.

The blue-haired wonder turned around to face him again, laughing hopelessly and loudly, tears still running in rivulets down his face. Despite himself, Murdoc allowed himself a smile as he leaned against the doorframe and watched his bandmate laugh more than he had for a very long time.

Unfortunately, Stuart was not the best at multi-tasking, so his happiness was short-lived. He really wasn't good at breathing and laughing at the same time, and that left him with a problem, for he collapsed on the concrete floor, gasping for air.

Murdoc stared for about ten seconds until he actually realized that his 'friend' was not in fact laughing anymore, but shaking from cold, and that he was not getting up anytime soon. He took a few steps towards 2D, stopping just in front of him and finally noticing the blood smeared over the floor, seemingly from 2D's feet. The pickle frowned, surprised that his singer had even made it this far with that much pain going on. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to pull all of those shards out, because many were quite small.

Oh- yeah. He won't be able to stand up properly, if the soles of his feet are fucked up, so Murdoc made to grab his arm, attempting to hoist his singer up from the concrete. He growled when Stuart moaned in protest, and just about refrained from bringing harm to his singer physically.

Instead, he became annoyedly aware that he would need to carry 2D into his beloved Winnie, and crouched down, already feeling pains from his back.

Surprisingly (to Murdoc, at least, who had not really been paying much attention to Stuart's eating habits) Stu was extremely easy to carry. He was light and thin, but very hard to manouver. It took a good seven minutes to dump 2D's limp, cold body on HIS bed, and Murdoc managed to remind himself that he'd have to pick the little shards of... what seemed to be china out of 2D's feet. But for now, he shut the front (AND back) door and threw a blanket carelessly onto Stuart, who was wearing surprisingly little for how cold the bassist presumed he knew it would be in the carpark.

While he waited for 2D to stop shivering, Murdoc decided, puffing on a cigarette and polluting the van's air even further, that he would take care of him this night, for he knew it would be a long one.

**I'm sorry for the lack of updates, but I just couldn't cram all of the development into one single chapter, so next chapter will have their long bonding time!**

**Remember- 3 reviews AT LEAST!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Okay but like... I don't wanna 'urt tha Booger or anyfin, y'know? She's growin' up... but she's so mature awready. I could neva' hold a grudge against lil' Noods. I'm sure tha's why Russ is wiv 'er. Cos he luvs 'er, yannow, Muds?" 2D had begun to ramble. After he'd thawed out, he had attempted to leave- but Murdoc was having none of that, not while his feet were fucked up beyond belief.

That lead to their current situation, where 2D was sitting on Murdoc's bed, left leg stretched out, as Murdoc worked on getting all the shards of pottery out of the (surprisingly) soft skin of 2D's foot.

The truth was, after Murdoc had convinced Stu to let him take the godforsaken china out of his foot, the Satanist had offered him a beer. The singer was quick to oblidge, and one bottle led to another, until Murdoc realized that a cat with no paws could hold their liquer better than D. He swayed lightly on the bed, watching Murdoc with half-lidded eyes as he grit his teeth and used a pair of rusty tweezers to pick out the shards.

"Muds... D'ya suppose they found out..?" 2D asked the question in surprisingly sad tones, wiggling his toes. Murdoc didn't look up, but he promised himself that he'd pull 2D's toes out of their sockets if the fucker didn't stop moving them about.

"Found out? Nah, It's still pretty late, and I don't hear any of Noodle's screamin' at this point, so you're probably safe." He replied without a beat, chuckling a little to himself.

2D was silent, but it wasn't a content scilence, it was an upset one, and it was a little more than obvious. Just as Murdoc looked up to ask what was wrong, 2D whispered in a voice that sounded sober, "I don't mean that, Murdoc." His voice was thick with the promise of tears, and Murdoc was actually confused for a couple of minutes before he realized what 2D meant by them 'finding out.'

"Look, 'D, I'm sure they haven't, ok?" It was the first time Stuart had really heard Muedoc be sensitive with him, and so dismissive at the same time. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and messed about with his fingers, like he had the habit to.

The thing was, Murdoc knew his secret only because he had looked after him for around 10 hours a week when the kid was catatonic. In all honesty, Murdoc had made fun of him for it and had ridiculed him for it, even though Stuart technically wasn't able to retort or defend himself.

It was only one night, when the bassist was exceedingly bored did he actually research what Stuart was. Surprisingly, the information that he found out didn't make him feel sick or disgusted, he actually gained some form of respect for Stu.

That meant that instead of putting him down because he was 'different', he'd treat him normally, because confronting the subject with 2D actually made him feel uncomfortable. Guilt was something he could bury, but he was never able to get rid of it completely.

The bassist attempted at pulling a rather large piece of the china out that had really lodged itself in there, and 2D let out a yelp, pulling his foot away. "Hey- Tha' really hurt, Muds!"

Murdoc deadpanned, throwing the tweezers at 2D and grumbling something under his breath. It seemed like he was done with pulling pieces of china out of his singer's foot, because he sat down next to 2D, who was pouting, and grabbed a beer bottle from the floor- which just happened to be unopened.

While 2D fiddled around with the tweezers and attempted to pull some more of the china out of his feet, Murdoc continued on his quest to get utterly smashed.

A small scilence rang out between them, only interupted by Stuart's concentration sounds and the slosh of alcohol in Murdoc's bottle. Stuart did not allow the scilence to go on for long.

"Muds... do ya reckon that it's wrong... that I don't feel safe with Noods n' Russ anymore?" He asked, biting his lip and squinting hard to see all the tiny pieces sticking out of his foot.

Murdoc put his beer down on the small table next to his cramped bedspace. "After what they've done to you? I don't think anything you're feeling about this is wrong, mate."

"But...if ya fink it's such a bad fing they've done ta me, then how come ya haven't done anyfing ta stop 'em?" 2D frowned, but the conversation was sidetracking him, and he stuck the tweezer into an open wound, crying out.

Out of reflex and the edge that little human company had put him on, Murdoc lashed out, slapped 2D hard across the face.

The loud smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed around the confied space of the Winniebago.

For about a minute,ntherebwas scilence while 2D processed what had just happened. And then he yelped, suddenly moving all at once. His hands clutched his face, he scooted away from Murdoc on the bed and crossed his long-ass legs, wincing.

"E-ey! What da 'eck wassat for, Muds?!"

Murdoc took another sip of his beer. "You were being too loud, mate," the bassist fixed 2D with a stone-cold glare over his beerbottle. "Shut up."

The singer's brow furrowed, but he really didn't get the message properly. "That's not a very good reason ta 'it someone, though, Mur'doc..." he mumbled, not quite catching his friend rolling his eyes. 2D yawned, letting go of his cheek. "And... ya neva answered my question, Mudsie..."

The lanky singer fell backwards onto the small bed, his legs splaying over the edge and just about his torso and head fitting onto the small square space.

Murdoc didn't say a word, he just sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the end of his Winnie, sipping his beer. When he finally did reply, the person his speech was directed to was fast asleep, breathing in the smoky air of the small camper van.

The bassist nearly got angry at Stuart again, but something about the peaceful sight of him sleeping sedated his anger, and a smile almost tugged at his disgusting lips.

"Goodnight, 'D." He mumbled, getting up and fetching another beer.

**AAAA guys I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this darned chapter out! My exams are coming up and I literally have no time for this story... I'll TRY to get chapters out, I swear, but it's gonna be hard bc I'll be revising and all that stuff.. try 5 reviews for me this time? love ya!**


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